THE VIRTUOUS CON

by Maren Foster

  “Yeah.”

  “What kind of supplements?”

  “Um, I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “I mean, it’s a little embarrassing.”

  “Oh come on!”

  “Male enhancement.”

  “Oh my God!” Ali laughed out loud. “That’s hilarious!”

  “Like I said, he has diversified since then.”

  “Hopefully his business interests were not driven by personal shortcomings!” She laughed even harder.

  “Nice.”

  “Where’s he from?” Vi interjected.

  “He grew up mostly in Westport, Connecticut. He has one sister.”

  She nodded, “Have you met her?”

  “Not yet. She lives in a small town in South Carolina and only comes up to New York occasionally.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad.”

  I nodded.

  As we talked I began to notice just how alike Vi and Ali were now. They made the same gestures with their hands when they talked. They both said “No?” instead of “Yes?” to confirm that I understood what they meant. They had always been really close. Initially, I thought that it had to do with the fact that Ali was first born and so Vi did everything with her first. It was true that by the time it was my turn they were seasoned, practiced, and the excitement had worn off, but it was more than that. It was something deeper, something within each of us. Whatever it was, Ali and Vi were simpatico. I knew it from a young age and I think they knew it even before I did. I’m just different.

  “How’s Soren?” I asked.

  “He’s great,” Ali said.

  “You two have been dating forever!”

  “Six years.”

  “Wow. Isn’t that long enough? What are you waiting for?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why don’t you just get married? You must love him to be with him for six years.”

  “Of course I love him, but I’m not sure we’ll ever get married. I don’t really feel any need to get married. We know we love each other. What more do we need? Besides, we are young, we have a lot of time to do that, if and when we want to.”

  “Wouldn’t it be nice to have some security?”

  “How do you mean? It’s not like I’m worried about him running off with someone else. I guess if he wanted to do that I’d rather he just leave anyhow. If marriage kept him tied to me, even if he didn’t want to be with me, that would be wrong. Plus I make more money than he does, so what security can marriage bring that I don’t already have?”

  “Oh. Alight.” I used to think that marriage kept people together and that it would be nice to be taken care of, probably because I thought that Vi was on her own precisely because she was never married. I don’t know what I believe now. Not all marriages are what they seem.

  “Do you really believe that married people are less likely to cheat on each other? Or are less likely to be unhappy? I don’t buy it.”

  “What about once people have kids. Don’t you think it’s important for kids to grow up in a house where the parents are together?”

  Ali shot Vi a look: are you going to let her insult you like that? Vi looked at me, as though she might actually play arbiter this time, but then stayed silent instead.

  “Was it so awful growing up in a house with just a mom?” Ali continued.

  “No, of course not. Vi was wonderful. I just think that if two people are together and have kids, they should try to stay together for their kids’ sake.”

  “Even if they hate each other and the example they set is of a couple that is miserable?”

  “You always make everything so extreme.”

  “And as usual, you have no defense for the status quo to which you blindly subscribe.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Enough,” Vi finally interjected. When we were growing up, Vi let us fight until we grew tired (I suspect she saw it as the perfect training for a budding lawyer), but these days she seemed to grow tired first.

  I thought about my father, who I assumed I would never meet and wondered how he and Vi met. Were they in love? Was he a good guy? Did he want to be a father? Would he love me if he knew me now?

  “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Vi asked.

  “I was thinking Brunch at Simone’s, and then maybe we could go for a long walk through the city to Central Park. We could get a drink in the afternoon at one of the rooftop bars on our way to the tailor. I need to try my dress on one last time in case I’ve gained or lost any weight since it was finished. I thought we could go together so that I can try it on and you two can see it. Nate has something planned for dinner but he wouldn’t tell me what. Is there anything you want to do tomorrow?”

  “Nope. That sounds great,” Vi said.

  “Ali?”

  “Nope, fine.”

  I met them around ten the next morning for brunch and then we walked. We stopped for cocktails just after noon, taking in a spectacular view of the park and the thin slice of blue water that glimmered between the skyscrapers of Lower Manhattan. It had been a relatively uneventful morning with Ali, for which I was grateful. We got to Matilda’s at three-thirty.

  I went back to the dressing room and stripped down to my underwear. Matilda and her two assistants barged in without knocking and held the dress open for me, while Matilda unhooked my bra.

  “Don’t be so shy Darling, we’re all women here, and you can’t wear that bra with this dress,” she said, as she tossed my bra onto a nearby bench and turned me around to zip up the back.

  “Breathe out,” she ordered.

  Once they had pulled and prodded and pinned to adjust the dress to perfection I turned toward the mirror. I was surprised by how beautiful the dress was. I shouldn’t be marrying him in this gorgeous dress. He doesn’t deserve this. My eyes began to well up with tears.

  “Oh, Honey, you look so beautiful!” Matilda crooned.

  I nodded, wiped my cheeks, took a deep breath, and tried my best to smile.

  Matilda opened the door and then followed me out, gathering the back of the dress in her arms as I walked.

  Ali and Vi were sitting in two vintage, sling back leather arm chairs in the large styling room, which had floor-to-ceiling mirrors on three of the four walls. Everything but the mirrors was dark grey, which made the white dress pop.

  “Oh, I love it!” Vi said with a big smile on her face.

  Ali smiled, but looked a little disappointed.

  “What’s wrong?” I demanded.

  “It’s a bit old fashioned,” she said.

  “Well, I wanted something different.”

  “So you cobbled together all of the ‘80s?”

  “Oh, shut up. Why can’t you just be nice?”

  “I just thought you were more creative than that.”

  “Enough,” Vi commanded.

  Back in the dressing room, Matilda and her assistants helped me climb carefully out of the dress, and put it back in its bag. I met Matilda at the counter, and fumbled in my purse for Nate’s AmEx. As I searched, I noticed Vi standing next to me, holding her credit card out. Matilda watched me.

  “Thanks, but it’s okay.” I said to Vi as I handed Nate’s credit card to Matilda.

  “You can’t afford this. Let me help you, please,” Vi said.

  “Really, it’s fine.”

  Vi stared at the black credit card and watched as Matilda ran it.

  We walked out into the acerbic New York air. I took a deep breath, happy to be out of the confines of the shop.

  “What time is dinner?” Vi asked.

  “Seven.”

  “Should we walk back to the hotel or take a cab?” Vi asked Ali.

  “I’m pretty tired,” Ali said.

  “Let’s take a cab.”

  We flagged a taxi, which would drop me at the condo before continuing on to the hotel. I stared out the window and watched the blur of a busy Saturday in New York City pass by: colored lights flashing, frenetic
movement, tourists gazing up at the towering buildings, and a beautifully outfitted wedding party posing for photos on the steps of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

  “Freddie, have you given any thought to whether you want to be walked down the aisle?” Vi asked.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it,” I said. “Do you want to do it?”

  “Oh Freddie, of course!” Vi exclaimed. “Why don’t we all do it?”

  “I was thinking Ali could be the maid of honor,” I said.

  Ali was visibly annoyed by the suggestion.

  “Oh, come on, Ali, you have to,” Vi insisted.

  “You are my only sister,” I added.

  “Whatever you want.”

  “You ordered your dress already right?” I asked.

  “Yeah, I got fitted last month,” Ali said.

  “Oh, good.”

  “I hate it. It’s ridiculous and makes my hips look gigantic.”

  “I’m sure it doesn’t,” I said. “Oh, also, I’ve been asking everyone to call me ‘Wyn’ now. I know you two will never stop calling me ‘Freddie’, and that’s fine when it’s just us, but Nate doesn’t know about that nickname and I’d rather not give him something to tease me about. Will you two please call me ‘Wyn’ in front of him? It’s really important to me.”

  “So grown up these days!” Vi observed.

  “Please,” I begged.

  “Sure.”

  “Ali?”

  “Whatever.”

  “Seriously. Please.”

  “Fine.”

  “Thank you.”

  I texted Nate, “Be on your best tonight. Ali’s not in a good mood.”

  “Got it. See you at The Foundry at 7.”

  Back at the penthouse condo that Nate had bought us, I opened a card that had come in the mail. It was a save the date for Julia’s wedding shower complete with a website address. I opened the website on my phone’s browser to find more details than anyone needed: where to stay, what to wear, what gifts to buy. If it was any indication of how their wedding would be, I was in for a bit of a shock. I checked the online guest list. There was no one else that I knew personally, but a handful of names stood out. They were names I had heard whispered at parties, names that I recognized from newspaper columns and gossip magazines.

  The Foundry had opened about six months earlier in an old garment factory in the Meat Packing District. The hostess showed us to our table. Nate was sitting in the corner of the big leather booth with a glass of scotch on the rocks. He stood up.

  “Nice to meet you, Vivienne,” he said and took my mom’s hand gently in his.

  “Please call me Vi,” she said.

  “Ali. My pleasure,” he said as he shook her hand.

  We piled into the booth around Nate. The table was in the corner of the restaurant with a great view of the cavernous room. The walls of the old garment factory were exposed common brick, and old large metal objects remained around the space: a large winch, the remnants of an old pulley system hung from the ceiling, a big metal gear sat propped up against a wall near the bathrooms.

  We ordered a bottle of wine and Vi began her line of questioning with the standards: where was he from, were his parents still together, did he have any siblings? I could see her discomfort when he talked about his parents’ divorce. Ali was silent but watched him intently, studying his mannerisms, his every look and movement.

  “Is your sister married?” Vi asked.

  “She is.”

  The food was taking longer than expected and the wine was beginning to do its job. After a little more small talk, Ali took advantage of a momentary silence. “Do you believe in God?” she asked Nate.

  I watched the look on Nate’s face go quickly from amenable to annoyed. “Yes, I do.”

  “Do you believe in a woman’s right to choose?”

  “Choose what?” Nate shot back.

  “What is best for her.”

  “Sure.”

  Vi asked about his work. Nate explained the new product line his team was working on.

  “I hear you got your start in dick enlargement,” Ali said. “Any particular reason?”

  “Ali!” I pleaded.

  “I’m well endowed,” he shot back and laughed.

  “None of that stuff works,” she said.

  “Probably not.”

  “So you’re a scam artist, and you’re proud?”

  “I’m a successful businessman, and yes.”

  Ali rolled her eyes. I finished off my wine and poured myself another glass. I should have known Ali would be a liability.

  “Did I hear that you two bought a house?” Vi asked.

  “Well, actually, I bought a house for us last fall. We’ve been going there on the weekends when we have time, to get a break from the city. It’s in Old Greenwich,” Nate said.

  “Isn’t that in the suburbs?” Ali asked.

  “It is. It’s quite beautiful.”

  “I’m sure,” Ali said.

  “That’s where we’ll have the wedding,” I said.

  “Yeah, my cousin has agreed to officiate,” Nate said.

  “Oh, interesting. Is he a minister?” Ali asked.

  “He is just finishing seminary now,” Nate said.

  “I want you two to know that I would be happy to help with the wedding,” Vi interrupted. “I mean financially. Of course Ali and I will help with preparations and whatever else you need done too.”

  Ali looked out across the large dining room, which had filled up since we arrived.

  “Well, thank you, Vi, that is very generous of you, but I’ll take care of everything.”

  “Of course,” I heard Ali mumble under her breath.

  Vi ordered another bottle of wine.

  “So, Vi, I hear that you’re a big deal lawyer in Chicago.”

  “Well, I don’t know about that,” she smiled coyly. “I’ve had a nice career. I’ve started teaching at the university as an adjunct, which I’m really enjoying. I don’t think I’ll ever retire completely. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

  “I know what you mean,” he said.

  As dinner wound down and we finished off the second bottle of wine, I grew anxious, anticipating the fight I knew was inevitable.

  Eventually, the waitress brought one check for the table in a black leather bi-fold and placed it presumptuously in front of Nate. Vi reached awkwardly across the table and snatched it away before he reacted.

  He held out his credit card. “Please Vi. This is my treat,” he said.

  “Not a chance. We are all adults.”

  “You are our guests here this weekend,” he protested.

  “Nathan, I work hard. If you want to pay for your wedding that’s your prerogative, but I will buy my own dinner when I please,” Vi said.

  Nate leaned forward to reach for the bill.

  “Nate, please!” I practically yelled, and extended my arm in a futile attempt to stop him. His strength was no match and my arm became pinched between his stomach and the table.

  “Ouch!” I screeched in pain.

  “Freddie!” Vi exclaimed out of concern.

  I shot her a look of reproach. Don’t call me that!

  She looked confused and worried.

  The strangers at the three tables nearest ours stared in my direction. Nate sat back against the booth, pulled me into his arms, and inspected my forearm tenderly. I winced in pain as he kissed the red marks. I looked up to see Ali rolling her eyes. Nate smiled at the onlookers reassuringly. I smiled too, in an attempt to convince everyone that I was okay. Did he hear Vi call me Freddie?

  Nate flagged a cab for Ali and Vi, and he and I got a car home.

  “Why did your mom call you ‘Freddie’?” he asked as the car pulled away.

  “Oh, yeah, she used to call me that when I was little, along with a bunch of other embarrassing nicknames, like Wynnie. It still slips out sometimes when she’s worried about me, even though she hasn’t called me that in years. I hate
all of them, so don’t get any ideas.”

  He nodded, and seemed to buy it. Thank God.

  The Tale

  Thursday, June 29, 2017

  Manhattan

  Our rehearsal dinner was in a big room at a fancy club downtown where Nate was a member. The last of our guests were just trickling in. It was a perfect summer evening, pleasantly warm.

  I grabbed Nate and we made the rounds together, introducing each other to people who represented other times in our lives, and had made the trip for the weekend. I can’t believe this is really happening! They are all here to witness and celebrate a complete sham of a wedding and marriage. I’ve done it!

  Dinner was served at precisely seven-thirty around one large, long table. Nate and I sat at the head of the table and watched as our friends and family interacted, a bit timidly at first, but as the champagne flowed their interactions shifted from formal and a bit guarded, to friendly and boisterous. The silver, china, and crystal chattered above their voices, with a few wild laughs punctuating the customary sounds of celebration. Once everyone had been served the first course and the clatter began to die down, Nate stood to offer a toast.

  “Wyn and I would like to thank all of you for being here tonight. You are each special to us in your own way, and we are honored to share this very special weekend with you. We would like to thank our parents, John, Maggie, and Vivienne, and our sisters, Ali and Hannah, for all of their help making this evening and tomorrow possible, and to everyone who has supported us in our journey.”

  He raised his glass in the air. “May love conquer all.”

  The guests clapped and cheered.

  He turned toward me and compelled me to stand.

  “We are not perfect, but we are perfectly in love,” he said.

  He looked me directly in the eyes.

  “Wyn Laurent, I have never met another woman like you. I am truly blessed to call you my partner, my best friend, and soon my wife.”

  The room erupted, glasses clinked, and Nate leaned down and kissed me. We raised our glasses and tapped them together gently.

  It was my turn. I had never been very comfortable speaking in front of people and hadn’t planned to say anything, but beckoned by the guests and Nate’s intense gaze, I stood up and raised my glass.

  “As Nate said, thank you all so very much for being here with us this weekend. We are eternally grateful to have you in our lives and to call you friends! Nate and I do not have a romantic ‘how we met’ story. As many of you know, we met online, as many people do these days. We don’t get to choose how we meet the person we will spend our life with, but we do get to define our relationship together. That first encounter that binds us, that moment when we realize that we will never be the same because of this person, and that we must honor that moment and follow it where it leads us…that is what today and tomorrow are all about and I,” I paused to correct myself, “we, are ever so thankful that you are here to share it with us!” Today and tomorrow are all about that encounter five years ago that bound me to this man against my will. That moment continues to define everything, and will do so until I have my revenge.